


the prodigal daughter returns

by ellapromachos



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellapromachos/pseuds/ellapromachos
Summary: The 501st learns Commander Tano is on her way back, and decides to give her a bit of a surprise.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 35
Kudos: 138





	the prodigal daughter returns

**Author's Note:**

> ✨ for extra effect, listen to burying the dead while reading ✨

“Five credits says I can beat you,” the shiny says, waggling his gloved fingers as he does. Rex rolls his eyes. The captain leans forwards on the cafeteria table and sets his elbow on the table. He locks his hand with the shiny’s and smiles.

“You’re on,” he says. The shiny grins wolfishly, and adjusts his grip on Rex’s hand. Various members of the five-oh-first crowd around the table. They’re almost too excited to see Rex arm-wrestle a shiny, but he can’t blame them. Yerbana had mostly been them just fucking around, and they spent half of that battle under a bridge. Talk in the Senate is that the war is coming to a head and that the winner will be decided in the coming battles. He’s not entirely sure he believes that, but whether or not he thinks it’s true, the rumours are making his men nervous.   
Besides, Rex is never opposed to putting a shiny in their place. New clones sometimes have a bit of an ego, and that never goes over well in battle. Best to knock it out of them before then, so their head doesn’t get too far up their ass.

“Beat his ass, Rex!” a clone hollers from the sidelines as Rex locks eyes with the clone in front of him. Regulation crew-cut, smooth skin, and pale white armour. Jesse, clad in his ARC armour, clears his throat and scrambles up onto the table. In his best Z-slam announcer voice, he begins.

“Welcome, everyone, to the second annual Galactic Republic arm-wrestling tournament!” Jesse gestures wildly, and Rex adjusts his grip on the shiny’s hand. "Today, we have defending champion, the finest clone in the galaxy, the hero of the Republic, Captain Rex of the five-oh-first legion!"

At that, he earns a chorus of cheers. The shiny's hand is getting sweatier and sweatier in his hand—even through the blacks— and Rex smiles calmly at the shiny. "Relax," he says. "You won't win if you're nervous."

The shiny rolls his eyes, and Jesse continues his holocaster reel. "His opponent? Ink."

Rex's opponent, Ink, smirks as a few of his shiny buddies clap him on the back. Internally, Rex cringes. Overconfidence like Ink's kills on the battlefield. He's seen countless brothers earn themselves a blaster bolt through the skull like that, and he's not particularly partial to losing another. However overconfident that brother might be.

"On your mark," Jesse says, his voice dropping to a low whisper. He crouches slightly, and Rex leans forwards. His plastoid armour scrapes up against the table. A familiar rush of blood coils through him, and Rex winks at his brother. Jesse continues, "Get ready."

Ink's eyes widen in confusion just as Jesse screams out, "Go!"

Rex takes that moment to slam Ink's hand down onto the bright white table. A large shout goes up from the clones, and Rex leans back. Ink glances between his hand, and Rex, and his hand, and Rex, and then eventually splutters.

Yes, he played dirty, but Seppies don't play fair either. Ink will think Rex is a dick now, and while he'll be embarrassed for the next few hours, some of his braggadocios should be permanently dashed. That's all Rex cares about.

Rex lifts his legs over the table bench and hooks his fingers around his helmet, tucking it between his forearm and the side of his torso. He shrugs at Ink. "Rematch soon, right? Double or nothing."

Ink blinks at him before he lets out a long sigh through his nose and then says, "Yeah. Sounds good, sir."

Jesse lands back on the floor with a loud thud and claps Rex's back hard enough for him to fall over. The other clone holds his helmet the same way Rex does. "Holy shit, Rex, I didn't think you'd play dirty like that. Little fucker."

"I'm older than you," Rex says. He's not entirely certain of that, but he does not that he was in active service before Jesse, which means he's basically older. 

"Only in your mind, sir."

Rex snorts as they continue towards the exit. "The kid was too confident. I was helping him."

"Sure, sure," Jesse laughs as they head towards the bridge. "You're sure it's not because you enjoy being a dick?"

"Don't worry. You know that spot in my heart is reserved for you," Rex jokes, nudging Jesse's shoulder. His brother rolls his eyes, a retort ready on his tongue, but another clone comes barreling around the corner and straight into Jesse before he can say anything.

Rex jumps, hand going to his blasters before he recognizes the clone as Appo. His helmet is still on, and he's breathing heavier than Rex has seen him in a while.

"What's going on?" Rex asks, clicking his helmet into place on his blacks. Of course, Yerbana wouldn't be that easy to take. The clankers had come back. He pulls both of his black DC-17s out of their holsters and twirls them around his fingers as he raises his hands. The heavy gunmetal sings as he holds it, itching for a fight. Behind him, the troops form up. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as they all pull on their helmets.

Appo holds up a finger, and pants a bit before he responds, "Commander Tano is coming."

Rex's hands drop, and he jerks his head in the direction of his troops. "Everything's clear, boys."

With ease only trained soldiers possess, the clones switch from battle-ready to calm within a few seconds. Rex's attention stays on Appo, and unlike the rest of the five-oh-fits, his posture doesn't shift, though he does tuck his blasters back into their holsters.

"What do you mean, Tano's coming back?"

"I mean she's coming back," Appo responds flatly.

Rex sighs "What does that involve?"

Appo crosses his arms over his chest. "She's been in the under levels of Coruscant for the past couple of months. A member of Death Watch found her on Oba Diah."

"Oba D—what the hell was she doing on Oba Diah?" Rex asks. Ahsoka isn't that stupid. Oba Diah is a cesspit of crime, infested by the Pykes, and filled with criminals so corrupt the Republic doesn't even touch it.

"The general asked the same thing," appo says, amusement rife in his voice. Rex rolls his eyes.

"Then it's good to see we're on the same page."

"Who's Commander Ta-no?" 

Rex glances behind him, where Ink stands slightly confused. He says Ahsoka's name like it's a foreign word, which he guesses it is. 

"Skywalker's padawan," Jesse says, raising an eyebrow. On his head, the Republic cog distorts.

Ink frowns. "The general had a padawan?"

"Uh, yeah," Rex says. He turns so that he's facing Ink entirely, and steps towards the shiny. His brothers listen from behind him, and Rex is reminded of Ahsoka's absence. They'd gotten a few new shiny squads since the commander had left, and it's not like the clones talk about her often. "She left the Jedi Order."

"Why?" a clone from the back of the crowd pipes up.

Rex sighs and takes off his helmet. He meets the eyes of every clone trooper he can. "It's a bit of a long story."

"But there's plenty of time," Jesse saunters up behind him and slings an arm around Rex's shoulders, "Plus, I have an idea."

* * *

"You're sure we can afford to use all of this paint?" Junior, one of Ink's batchmates, asks. Jesse tries to shrug but the bottles upon bottles of orange paint in his arms make it difficult.

"We're fine," Rex says over an armful of paintbrushes. "We bought this paint for clone armour specifically."

Rex drops the paintbrushes on the floor of one of the training rooms. Clusters of clones are scattered around the rooms, each one with their helmet in their lap and a paintbrush in their hand. Ahsoka is lucky. Her markings—her old ones—are fairly simple. They're easy for the clones to paint on, though several of the veterans choose not to paint their helmets.

Those who served alongside Ahsoka and have taken up the normal markings of the five-oh-first paint their helmets, while Jesse, Rex, and Appo all paint the helmets of shinies, or brothers who are trying to get a few moments of sleep.

They always use the same training room to paint their armour, and at this point, the ground is covered in harsh stripes of blue and the occasional smattering of two hundred and twelfth gold. Jesse drops the fresh bottles of orange paint onto the ground and picks one up, tossing it in the air a couple of times as he does. 

Chemicals hang heavy in the air and the steady chatter of the clones floats through the room. Rex grabs a paintbrush and heads back to his corner of the room, where Appo already leans against the wall, a helmet nestled in his lap while he paints it with meticulous fingers.

Jesse plops down next to Appo. Rex groans as he settles onto the floor, his back cracking as he does.

"Old man," Jesse snorts.

"I thought you said you were the older one," Rex points out as he dips the chunky paintbrush into the bucket of orange paint in the middle of them. Jesse rolls his eyes. 

Throughout the war, Rex has redone the jaig eyes on his helmet countless times. While the paint most clone troopers use is incredibly durable, explosions do tend to wear it down. Rex's jaig eyes aren't very fine details, though, so most of the time he's able to get away with drawing two open triangles above his eyes and calling it a day. The work needed for the Ahsoka-inspired helmets is much finer. He starts with broad, messy strokes of orange paint (earning him a 'slow down' from Appo,) making sure he cuts a clean border around the edge of the helmet.

He sets that helmet aside to dry and grabs one of his first helmets. It's the first one to dry, meaning he gets to try his hand at Ahsoka's markings. Rex lays his paintbrush down on a plastic sheet Appo rolled out and reaches for one of the delicate-looking ones.

He dips it into the white paint, shining under the warm white light of the training room, and makes the first mark on the now-dried orange paint. 

Jesse whistles appreciatively as Rex gently traces the shape of Ahsoka’s markings onto the helmet. This has to be perfect. 

Ahsoka’s flight from the Jedi Order had been terrifyingly quick, and Rex hadn’t been there for any of it. Yes, he’d heard about the bombing from Skywalker, but the last update he received was that they caught the bomber and Ahsoka was going to talk to her in prison. Rex had been on a weeks-long campaign after that, and when he came back, General Kenobi was the one to tell him Ahsoka had left.

Skywalker hadn’t been the same after that. He was just as successful, but he seemed sadder. Sometimes, Rex caught him looking around for someone who wasn’t there or heading to the training rooms only to seem confused when no one showed up.

And it’s not like Ahsoka’s disappearance went unnoticed within the ranks of the five-oh-first. Countless clones asked him about where Commander Tano went, and Rex never had a solid answer. Hell, he didn’t even have her comm in case she was in trouble.

“Once I saw the commander eat a rat,” Jesse says, not looking up from his own helmet. His tongue is stuck slightly out of his mouth in concentration as he draws the lines on Ahsoka’s cheeks. 

Appo waves his paintbrush at Jesse, “We’ve all eaten things we regret during campaigns.”

“Yeah, but like, she ate it raw. Bones and all,” Jesse looks up from the helmet, his eyebrows furrowed. He’s not even really looking at anyone, just staring off into the great unknown with a mystical look in his eyes, like he’s remembering a dream.

“What?” Appo asks, curling his lip. “The commander wouldn’t eat a rat.”

“I mean. . .” Rex says, tracing the outline of Ahsoka’s eyebrow markings on his helmet. Her face is fuzzy in his memory and seems to get fuzzier and fuzzier every day. Still, the captain tries his best to make the helmet look as much like Ahsoka as he can. “Togrutas do eat raw meat.”

“With bones?” Jesse asks. The ARC trooper clacks his teeth together for emphasis.

“With bones,” Rex confirms. He’s seen his superior officers eat all manner of things while they’re on long campaigns. General Skywalker likes to eat bugs. Ahsoka eating the occasional rodent was minuscule compared to that. Appo pauses in his painting and looks up.

“Does that mean General Ti could eat a raw rat?”

Jesse points his paintbrush at his brother. “She could, but that’s not the question. You’re asking whether or not she would eat a rat.”

Appo finishes his first helmet and sets it aside proudly, glancing at Jesse before saying, “Okay. Would General Ti eat a raw rat?”

“No,” Rex pipes in as he fills in the lines of Ahsoka’s markings. “Too dignified.”

Rex finishes his first helmet and holds it away from his face, studying the way the lines dipped around the T-shaped visor. Her markings had probably changed in the last few months. Would she be taller now? Shit, does she even have her lightsabers? Has she been able to protect herself?

He pushes himself up and walks over to the finished line of helmets, grabbing an unfinished one while he does. Worrying about Ahsoka won’t do her any good. Besides, if she’s well enough to travel to Coruscant, she’s obviously been able to protect herself. She’s not dead, and that’s enough of a win for Rex.

Jesse might just be the smartest clone in the GAR for suggesting this, Rex thinks as he begins to paint the next helmet. Crisp five-oh-first blue disappears under swathes of warm orange as he paints. It’s therapeutic, and it’ll be a nice surprise for Ahsoka when she gets back. 

“Mind if I join you?”

Rex snaps to attention, as do Jesse and Appo. Their reactions cause a ripple effect within the rest of the room. Soon, every clone is standing straight-backed, trying to hide their paintbrushes. General Skywalker laughs—an actual laugh, not an empty one—for the first time since Ahsoka left. “At ease, men.”

Skywalker strolls over to Jesse, Appo, and Rex’s little circle, and Rex scoots over to make room for the general. Shit. He should probably try to be polite and at least offer his commanding officer a helmet. Rex holds out the one he’s currently painting, but Skywalker waves it off. 

“No thanks, Rex. I’m just working on a personal project.” He smiles and holds up a thin brown box. Rex frowns, but when Skywalker sets the box in front of himself and flips it open. 

Both of Ahsoka’s blades lay in a padded case, shined silver until they hurt to look at. Skywalker has clearly poured more than a bit of effort into them, and Rex smiles. His general picks them up reverently and bounces them in his hands a bit.

“Please don’t accidentally turn those things on,” Jesse groans. Skywalker laughs, and his eyes seem much brighter than they have in a while. 

“I won’t,” he says as he places the shorter of the two lightsabers into the padded case. From some compartment within the case, he pulls out a cloth and some kind of spray. Anti-rust, from the looks of it. 

Appo, who is closest to the lightsaber, eyes it the same way one eyes a limp battle droid. “Have you ever turned it on by accident?”

“Once or twice,” Skywalker smiles at some private memories, his shaggy hair falling in his eyes as he does. “Ahsoka did, once.”

Jesse and Rex glance at each other, and Rex pauses in his painting. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Skywalker snickers, a large smile spreading across his face. “Sawed straight through the training room wall in the Temple. There was a youngling class going on next door, and I think the master would’ve yelled at Ahsoka if the younglings weren’t there. Each time they saw each other after the that, the master glared at Ahsoka hard enough to kill her. ”

Jesse smirks and sets his helmet aside as he finishes it. He leans back. “What happened to no hate?”

Skywalker’s eyes darken, and he swallows. Rex shoves him. Jedi never answer questions about the code. He should know that. Skywalker places the lightsaber into the case and pulls out the longer one. He shines it with renewed attention, seemingly lost in thought.

Rex blows a breath out of his mouth and looks around the room. Most of the helmets seem to have been finished, and Rex is on his last. He’s just filling in the tiny details, and then he’s done. 

Will Ahsoka even like them? She might’ve been a bit self-important when she first became a padawan, but over the years she had matured to the point where she turned down most praise she got. If Jesse, Rex, and Appo put all of this together for nothing, then he’s going to feel like an ass, and Ahsoka will feel like she’s on the spot. 

He can’t wait to see her, and he knows the sentiment is echoed across the entire five-oh-first, even those that haven’t met her. Ahsoka had been a good commander, even if she started out as a bad one. She would go to incredible lengths for her men, and they returned that sentiment tenfold. Rex appreciated that even more after the incident with Pong Krell.

Rex dips his brush into the drying white paint, and slowly fills in the forehead markings. 

“What are you doing, sir?” Appo coughs, sharing a glance with Rex. Skywalker has been uncharacteristically tense recently, and it’s making everyone uncomfortable. He just keeps shining and shining those damn lightsabers the longer they sit there, and while Rex guesses they give him something to do, it does make everyone else worry a bit about him.

“Shining Ahsoka’s lightsabers.”

“Why?” Jesse asks, closing his eyes as he leans his head against the white wall. At this point, they’re the only ones left in the massive training room.

Skywalker snorts as he cleans under the dials and notches within the lightsabers, “Because she never does.”

While Rex is still filling in the forehead markings, he says, “You never clean Artoo.”

The general gasps in mock offence and Rex’s hand is pushed off course seemingly without reason. A cool white smear of paint flicks across the forehead, and Rex tuts as he holds up the helmet, careful to avoid the areas that are still drying. Ahsoka won’t like that. She might think he forgot how her markings look. Besides, Rex is pretty sure using the Force to piss off your friends is considered frivolous use of the Force.

“You made me mess up!”

“Are we glossing over the fact that the General activated his lightsaber by accident as well?” Jesse says, ignoring Rex. Skywalker continues to shine the two lightsabers.

Appo chuckles stiffly. “I want to hear the story behind that.”

Skywalker pauses, a haunted look entering his eyes. He sets Ahsoka’s lightsabers back down into the casing along with the cloth, and closes it before, in the most dramatic tone of voice Rex has ever heard come out of him, he says, “You never will.”

“Please, general?” Jesse pouts, sticking out his outer lip.

“No.”

Appo pushes himself up and stretches as he says, “We’ll just ask General Kenobi, then.”

“Fine. I cut his bed in half.”

Rex snorts, and Jesse mimes the motion of the general slicing Obi-Wan’s bed in half. It’s a lot funnier than it probably should be, though that could just be from their collective nerves.

Jesse, through chuckles, says, “Is that how you got your scar?” He motions with a hand to the angry red scar bisecting Skywalker’s eye. 

“No,” Skywalker shakes his head before a stupid smile spreads across his face. He leans back on his palms, “I tried to shave with my lightsaber.”

* * *

Rex kneels in the freshly dug dirt, and brushes a hand over one of dozens of orange and white painted helmets. In the middle of the forehead, there’s a bright white smear of paint. 

He hopes the general is alright. 

The once-captain lifts the helmet with the gentleness one would give a newborn babe, and mounts it on a jagged stick. Ahsoka, wrapped in a grey robes stares at the graveyard of helmets, clutching her newly shined lightsabers in her dirty hands. Rex steps back, eyes focused on the helmets. A mangled mess of a Star Destroyer sits behind it, all wires and metal and death. He sighs, eyes flicking over the helmets.

The orange paint isn’t as bright anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this in one night instead of working on my main fic and i have no excuses. please excuse me while i go and cry. i am also very unsatisfied with this, and will most likely rewrite it sometime soon.
> 
> special thanks to [geneviève](https://twitter.com/sunflwrchrry) for giving me ideas for the paint scene. go follow her she's cool


End file.
